Issue #16 -- "Jumping the Pond"

However, a small tribunal has assembled to decide the fate of one young woman.

Sitting in a large council room, the tribunal consists of five Gaoans: four men and one woman. Two of the men and the woman are random Gaoans, but two of the men are recognizable: one is Lane Penta, the other is Cass Points. Cass is the head of this particular tribunal, and stands to address the audience in the chamber. (Ed. Note: For more information on the Gaoans, see Issue #9, Heart of Gold.)

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Gaoans, we have convened this tribunal in the manner that our ancestors did on our native homeworld. Now, participate in the administration of justice upon one of your own. Bring forth the defendant!"

Two Gaoan women, wearing some kind of light armor over their bodysuits, enter the chamber floor with a woman held by each arm. She is a small-built woman, with blond hair stricken by two black streaks from her temples. Her hair is cut shoulder-length.

Lane Penta stands to speak.

"Fellow Gaoans, your fellow woman, known by all as Quinn Ellipse, has been charged and found guilty of reckless violence by this Tribunal. The sentence for this offense will be doled out to her at the end of this convention." Lane takes his seat, allowing Cass to stand up. He turns toward Quinn.

"Quinn Ellipse, you have been found guilty. Do you wish to speak your peace before you are sentenced?"

"I do, Honored Tribune." The guards around Quinn release her, as she comes forward.

"Fellow Gaoans, Honored Tribunal, it is my opinion that I was born into the wrong race and species. The Gaoan philosophy and tradition of administering medicine to the universe has tired with me. I only request a small amount of excitement. If this requires violent behavior, so be it. Perhaps I would fare better on Earth, where my attitude is more widely accepted. If you all must know, I have idols among Gaoans who have been placed on Earth, and the biggest of these is Ferret Diamond-Points, who, if I'm not mistaken, Honored Tribune, is your spouse. Thus, when pronouncing sentence, please consider this: I would be of the most use down on Earth fighting alongside Ferret."

Quinn bows before the tribunal. "Thank you, Honored Tribunal."

The five members of the tribunal confer with each other, as the entire chamber rustles.

"I feel so sorry for her. She will never survive ..."

"... Ferret had a mind transfer, she didn't go down there willingly ..."

"... she's better off dead ..."

After furious consultation, the tribunal calls the chamber to order. Cass rises once again.

"Fellow Gaoan, Quinn Ellipse, the Tribunal has decided your fate. Step forward."

The guards lock a set of irons around Quinn's ankles and wrists. This done, she scoots forward as best as she can. Cass continues.

"Quinn Ellipse, it has been decided by this Tribunal that you will be banished from this ship for the duration of your natural lifetime. You will be sent down to the planet below, known as Earth, and allowed to live out your life there. This sentence can and will be reversed in any event that your presence should be needed aboard this ship or on the Gaoan homeworld itself. However, while on Earth, you may not have any contact with other Gaoans on the ship, making you truly banished from here. You may, however, have contact with other Gaoans on the planet, including the highly unlikely event of your meeting Ferret Diamond-Points."

The chamber rustles again. The tribunal calls it to order once more.

"This Tribunal has made its judgement, and as such, is dismissed. Quinn Ellipse, may the powers of the universe have eternal mercy on your mortal soul."

When the chamber is dismissed, the tribunal goes in their separate directions. Cass goes down to the chamber floor, calling off the guards so that he may talk to Quinn

"Follow me, Quinn Ellipse." Cass beckons for Quinn to follow him out of the chamber, which she does.

"Take this, Quinn."

Quinn looks up at him, taking the staff from him.

"This is known as a quarterstaff by the Earthlings. They use it as a weapon. Use it as you see fit. You may even learn to use it as the Earthlings use it, as a weapon."

Quinn smiles. "Thank you, Cass Points."

She walks over to the platform of the transfer beam.

"You are being put down on the planet in the country the Earthlings call `Great Britain.' You may set yourself up any way you see fit. Good luck, Quinn Ellipse."

Quinn nods. "I'll say hello to your wife if I see her, Cass."

Cass smiles as he fires up the transfer beam. The platform beneath Quinn falls away, and she shoots downward toward London.

Paragon is sorting through the office mail at the 7th Precinct office of Motown Heat. Slithering over to the Flea's desk, she sets down an airmail envelope from London. Flea looks it over, then smiles.

"Yes I do, Shelley. It's from Seamus Drivvey. He was in Detroit about five years ago working a case with me." Flea eagerly opens the envelope, pulling out a letter and a small photograph. Unfolding the letter, she reads:

Dear Jill,

"Let's see the photo."

Flea picks up the photo, holding it up to the light and seeing a dark figure against a brilliant background. Only when she squints her eyes and looks closer at the photo that she sees the details of a woman, holding a quarterstaff, walking out of the flash. She also sees traces of the outfit: a low slung neck, with the design of a long horizontal ellipse and an even longer vertical oval, which looks more like the letter Q.

"Hmmm ... this appears to be another one like me. A Gaoan."

"'Gaoan,' Jill?"

"Ask my sister, she'll tell you the whole thing. Anyway, I'd better give Seamus a ring and tell him. I'd also better tell him what she can do."

Before Flea can get over to the phone, however, it rings. Paragon picks it up, and after a little bit of conversation, hangs up.

"What a conicidence. The Detroit Police is loaning us out to Scotland Yard anyway. We can find out what's going on in person."

"This is quite fortunate for us. Call Jack, Jasmine, and Meredith, give them the 411 about the case. I've still got a call to make."

The woman stops, adjusting her bag. Finding his opening, the man pounces, tackling the woman, then coming upright once more, holding a knife to her throat.

"Channeller wants to see ya, luv. Care to guess why?"

Petrified with fear, the woman cannot answer. Tears run down her face, showing her fear. The man behind her keeps threatening her with the knife.

"Let's go, miss. Channeller doesn't like to be kept waitin'"

"Release her!"

A female voice booming through the alleyway startles the man. He drops the knife and freezes long enough for the woman to wrestle her way free from his grip. Turning around, he sees another figure entering the alleyway.

Another woman.

"You're kiddin', right? You couldn't take me, luv, I'm too big!"

The female figure comes into the light: it's Quinn.

"Q-Scrapper'll show you who's boss, jack." Pulling out her quarterstaff, she swings at the man, hitting him in the ear. Reeling a bit, he staggers, picking up his knife again.

"That'll cost you big, luv!" He charges. Quinn responds by planting the end of the staff into his crotch.

"Cost me what, numbnuts?"

Now speechless, the man charges again, this time managing to catch the elusive Quinn.

"Channeller'll show you! Channeller'll teach you respect for men!" Slashing at her hands, his knife finds purchase, cutting the back of her hand. With Quinn gasping in fear, the man takes the moment to plant a fist into her face.

"She calls herself the Q-Scrapper. She is one, at that."

"Is one what?" Cutup asks.

"A scrapper. In the last week alone, we've received eight reports of sightings of the Q-Scrapper, usually accompanied by a poor criminal bloke with the snot beat outta him."

Walking over to the file cabinet, he opens a drawer while Flea keeps the conversation going.

"What have you been doing here about her? I'd always thought there was a police task force for rounding up all superhumans."

Drivvey pulls at his collar. "Well, yes. In fact, I'm still uncomfortable with all of you being here. Especially you, Jill. How'd you end up as one, anyhow?"

"It's a long story I'd rather not get into right now. I still want to know why your task force hasn't picked her up yet."

Drivvey finds the file he's looking for, pulling it out and bringing it over to his desk.

"Two reasons, Jill. First off, she's making our jobs a hell of a lot easier, getting to these punks first. Why just the number of skinheads she's managed to beat up alone has prompted half of the skinheads in London to turn themselves in!"

"What's the second reason?" asks Paragon.

"She's too slick. We can't get her quickly enough before she gets away to pummel again. Until last night."

Opening the file, he pulls out more photographs. These ones, however, show Quinn beaten senseless, hanging by her tied hands from a meathook. Her feet and legs are bound as well.

"Last night we received a ransom note from some unknown bastard calling himself 'the Channeller.' He's accusing us of allying with the Q-Scrapper, and as a result is asking for a ransom of 2.5 million pounds, to be paid directly from police pension funds."

Flea studies the pictures closely, passing them around to the group as she does. The last picture in the packet, showing a close up of the top half of Quinn's body, shows her for sure who the woman is. She looks up.

"Does this meat locker look familiar to you, Seamus?"

Drivvey looks closely at another picture, staring with his eyes squinted. Finally he sees what she means.

"Yes it does. It looks like one run by one of your Detroit crime bosses."

Ramm looks up. "Dix Technologies, food science division, provisional headquarters, London, England."

"That's it. Let's go!"

Bringing Drivvey along with them, the team heads out to the meat locker.

Suddenly, the door opens. Channeller walks in, spying Quinn.

Channeller is a slim man, wearing a costume more suitable to the 19th century than for the 20th. He has muttonchop sideburns running down his jaws, leading up to his mussed hair. His eyes have a black aura around them.

"Soooo, this is the fearsome Q-Scrapper. A puny woman!"

Channeller slowly creeps toward Quinn, making her more nervous by the minute.

"I really don't approve of any puny little woman beating up my mates. No, I don't. Do you know what I do to people who do that to my mates?"

Channeller points his index fingers at Quinn. A black glow appears around them.

"I make them very, very afraid. Then I suck their fear from them. It makes me powerful!"

His fingers touch Quinn's temples, and Channeller's muscles pulse with the fear energy he's drawing from Quinn. He strikes a very powerful pose, keeping his fingers touching Quinn.

"The full power of Channeller comes to full fruition, and coming with it is your demise!"

"FREEZE! POLICE!"

Flea fires three shots into the air, scaring Channeller's three henchmen. As they scramble, Paragon catches one in her tail, Sonic Boom blasts one into the wall of the meat locker, and the third is pinned down with six of Cutup's knives. Drivvey is right there to take them all into custody, while Flea runs deeper into the building.

"Mop this up, folks, I'm going after Channeller!"

"So, another woman challenges me. No matter."

A blast emanates from Channeller's left hand, splaying Flea on the floor. A pile of beef intestines collapses on top of her. Channeller laughs at the further humiliation of the Flea.

"Feel the power of pure fear, woman. Feel the power of the Channeller!"

Channeller approaches Flea just as she gets out from under the intestines, brandishing her gun at Channeler.

"One step further and I ventilate you, slimeball!"

"You aren't doing that to me, woman!" Another blast, this one from Channeller's eyes, plows into Flea, bruising her. Channeller starts repeating his blasts, keeping Flea under a constant barrage of fire.

Just then, Quinn Ellipse picks up her head. Groggily, she recognizes the woman being pummeled by the Channeller. A shocked expression appears on her face.

"Ferret ... Ferret? In trouble!"

Quinn slowly picks herself up from the floor. Looking around, she finds a long pole of metal, about the length of her lost quarterstaff, and picks it up like her original staff.

"Now's my time to prove myself. Now's my time to show Ferret what I'm made of! Now's my time!"

Quinn leaps from her position to where Flea is being bombarded, swinging her new staff. She manages to nail Channeller on the side of his head, stopping his fire.

"You got me once, you won't get me again! Q-Scrapper'll show you who's boss!!"

Channeller is stunned for a moment, which is enough time for Quinn to help Flea to her feet. Seeing that her role model is in no condition for fighting, she takes Flea's pistol, pointing it toward Channeller.

"Ferret's in no shape for this scrum. You've got to deal with me, now!"

Quinn fires two shots. Unfortunately, Quinn has crappy aim: the bullets miss Channeller by a country mile. Frustrated, Quinn drops the pistol back in Flea's lap (she's now sitting on the floor) and picks her pole up again.

"You can't hurt me, Q-Scrapper. You definitely do not have the power."

Channeller fires a blast toward Quinn, one she nimbly avoids, flying toward her quarry. She plows the pole into Channeller's face once more, sending him sprawling. She swings again and again, injuring Channeller more and more with each blow.

"Damn you, Channeller! You had no right to take my fear! You can't pay enough for that violation! DIE!"

Quinn is only stopped by the Flea, who grabs the pole at the last minute. It's obvious that Ferret is in control.

"That's enough, Quinn Ellipse."

Quinn looks up, a smile crossing her face. Flea, however, is not smiling.

"Why are you here, Quinn Ellipse?"

"I was banished from the ship for being too violent. They sent me here. I hoped to be a crimefighter like you have become."

"You have a twisted sense of morals, Quinn Ellipse."

Quinn's face drops, her head droops. Tears seem to be brimming her eyes. "I admired you, Ferret. I wanted to be just like you, Ferret, and be a hero, like you have become."

Flea seems to be taking pity on her misguided admirer. She crouches down to Quinn, who's kneeling, her face in her hands.

"I realize how confusing this may be, but the crimefighter is not me. I am only a nurse, and at most, all I ever do is lick the wounds that Jill Burke inflicts on my body. Jill Burke is the real crimefighter. Also, she has a legal right to be one."

"L-legal right?"

Flea's face changes back to show Jill Burke in control. "That's right, Quinn, I'm a police officer." Flea pulls her Detroit Police badge out of her jacket, having placed it there when she left Detroit. "You have to understand the difference between what I am, a cop, and what you are becoming, a vigilante."

Seamus Drivvey has been walking toward the two women. Flea notices this and flashes a concerned look at him, seemingly urging him to take some action. Finally, his soft side shows through his dislike of superhumans.

"Tell you what, Scrapper. I'll make a deal. Normally, we in the U.K. lock people such as you up, but I believe that if we have any more of these superhuman type crooks around, we'll need superhumans of our own. I think you should be the first."

Quinn looks up, her tears brimming over. A smile cracks her somber demeanor.

"Really?"

"Sure, why not? If they don't understand at Scotland Yard, they can bugger off."

"Thank you."

Quinn stands up, taking her pole with her. She turns to Flea.

"I'll make you proud Ferret Diamond-Points."

"Call me the Flea, Quinn."

Quinn smiles. "Sure. As long as you call me the name I've adopted ... the Q-Scrapper."